


Oysters

by Comicbooklovergreen



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Abby Gerhard made oysters gay rights I don't make the rules, F/F, Softcore Food Porn, THAT scene in Ratched
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comicbooklovergreen/pseuds/Comicbooklovergreen
Summary: It would be Carol, in a thousand cities, a thousand houses, in foreign lands where they would go together, in heaven and in hell.One of those places was bound to have oysters.Or, the one where Carol uses food as a seduction technique.
Relationships: Carol Aird/Therese Belivet
Comments: 36
Kudos: 69





	Oysters

**Author's Note:**

> Hey kids, long time no see. If you’re here, then you probably know exactly what this is. Carol is all subtlety and understatement and things unsaid, and Ratched is…I don’t think Ryan Murphy knows that subtlety is a word. Or a concept. And both of the things are so, so good, and that oyster scene in Ratched is completely Extra, and I had to. Side note. Anyone else dying over the fact that Lady Paulson is now playing the Therese of that relationship? Like, I can’t. 
> 
> If you happen to also follow my crossover from hell, there are words written for that too. The structure demands longer updates which demand longer wait times and frankly…2020. Just…2020. But that next chapter is in the works for anyone curious. There are birthdays and leather pants, and that’s all I’m at liberty to say right now.
> 
> I’ve missed writing these two solo. Comments and kudos are, as always, beyond appreciated. Also, I borrowed the first part of the summary from Highsmith, for the three people here who maybe didn't know that, and thought I could write something that good.

“It’s so gorgeous here,” said Therese, staring out the window,

The California ocean lapped against the beach below. Therese had quickly decided it was one of her new favorite sounds, the gentle crash of the waves, over and over. She’d drifted off to it several nights in a row, lulled into some of the best sleep she’d ever gotten.

Of course, the sex helped too. Carol wore her out better, more pleasantly, than the sea air ever could.

They were high above the water now. The restaurant sat on a long pier. Summer light filtered in through the glass windows. It was a truly spectacular view, and Therese would need to buy more film soon. She thought she’d brought enough, but there was always another picture to take here, something beautiful to look at.

And Carol wasn’t looking at any of it. She hummed to show she’d heard Therese speak, but her gaze didn’t waver. She was looing at Therese across the table, her lips curved up into a small, contented smile.

“Carol,” Therese said, blushing. She reached for the wine in front of her, knowing it would do nothing for her blush.

“Yes, Therese?”

Therese gestured at the window with her free hand. “The view.”

“I’ve seen it.”

Shaking her head, Therese sipped from her glass, set it down again. “You’ve seen me, too,” she pointed out.

“In New York, not here. You’re lovely here. Beautiful.”

“As opposed to how hideous I am at home?”

Carol’s eyes narrowed, but her smile widened. “It’s a different beautiful here. A glow.”

“I think that’s just the sunburn.”

Carol winced and chuckled at the same time. “It’s a tan now. Are you feeling better?”

“Perfect,” Therese admitted.

She hadn’t brought enough film, or used enough sunscreen, not the first day. Carol tried to warn her, but as much as she relished the excuse to have Carol’s hands on her in public, Therese had refused to be slathered in any more of the stuff. It made her feel slimy, and she told Carol so. Carol said Therese was too fair, that she needed more sunscreen. Therese ran into the shallows of the ocean, washed away half of the lotion Carol had so carefully applied. And yes, she’d burned for it.

That put a damper on their next day of activities, but now Therese could admit that Carol was right. Her skin had gone from red and sore to almost it’s normal hue, just a tad darker. Kissed by the sun instead of attacked by it. Beautiful, Therese didn’t know about that, but she felt good. In her sandals and her light, flowing dress, she felt like a proper West Coaster.

She wasn’t that, at all. This was just for a little while, another week, another checkmark on the list of places Carol had promised to show her. Carol had visited as a teenager, one other time when she’d accompanied Harge on a business trip that was only half business.

It was a big state though, and Carol hadn’t ever come here with him, to this particular stretch of coastline, this restaurant by the ocean. This place was theirs. Everywhere else from now on would be theirs, and Therese was happy.

Checking to see the other patrons weren’t paying undue attention, Therese reached for Carol’s hand on the table, giving it a quick squeeze before returning her own hand to her lap. “Thank you.”

Carol smiled, sipped her drink. “What for?”

“This, All of it.”

“You’re welcome,” Carol said, setting her wineglass down and resting her hand on the table again. “I promise you that it’s my pleasure.”

Just like at home, Carol was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. California had offered some lovely sights though, and as Therese looked back at the ocean, at the waves foaming on the rocks below, she decided that absolutely everything in this place was gorgeous.

And then the waiter brought their meal.

Carol smiled and thanked him. Therese watched her face carefully, saw no signs of confusion or disappointment. So, Carol had indeed meant to order this, and the kitchen hadn’t made a mistake.

“What’s the matter?” Carol asked after the waiter was gone.

Therese eyed the platter of shellfish. “Are they supposed to look like that?”

Carol frowned. “Of course.”

“Huh.”

“You said you wanted to share with me.”

“I guess I wasn’t clear on what we were sharing.”

Carol had asked if she’d had oysters before. Therese said no. Carol said they were divine, that Therese absolutely must have them while they were here. Carol was happy and excited, so Therese hadn’t investigated further. A glaring oversight on her part, apparently.

“They’re delicious,” Carol insisted, though her frown remained. “Would you like me to have him bring the menu back? We can order you something else.”

Yes, Therese wanted to say, God yes. But she hated to be a bother, and there was no way Carol would ever finish all those things by herself. More importantly, Therese knew she didn’t want to.

Carol loved introducing Therese to new things, loved sharing that moment of discovery with her. Sometimes it was a hotel room with beautiful furnishings Therese hadn’t known existed. Sometimes it was a hole in the wall lounge that played the best live music, where they couldn’t dance together, but they could hold hands under the table in a darkened corner, unbothered. Sometimes it was an old movie Therese had never seen because she’d barely seen any movies for most of her adolescence, no money and no one to go with.

Today, Therese realized, it would be these weird looking shellfish on this platter with lemons and tiny forks and sauces and things that she hoped would make the creatures more appealing than they looked.

God, why did she have to love this woman so much?

“Don’t be silly. Why wait for another meal when we have, this,” Therese said, unable to entirely keep the hitch from her voice, “right here?”

Carol looked at her like she knew everything that was going on in her head. “Are you sure?”

No, she wasn’t. Wasn’t even sure she was still hungry. “Of course.”

Carol studied her a moment more, then smiled. A beautiful smile that gave Therese butterflies. Or possibly that was nausea, but Therese tried to focus on that smile.

“They really are divine,” Carol said, clearly pleased with Therese’s choice. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

There was the twenty miles they’d gone out of their way after leaving the airport in their rental car, but Therese chose not to mention that. She was meant to be the navigator anyway, but Carol’s hand in hers, on her knee, her thigh, she’d gotten distracted. They’d flown to California, but left themselves a sizeable enough road trip, a chance to experience the kind of coastline views Therese had only ever seen on postcards before now. 

Therese glanced again at the ocean outside, looked back at the table. The platter was still there. “This looks much more complicated than an average meal,” she said, tried to make it a joke.

“Nonsense,” Carol replied, her smile only widening. “It’s simple enough, and you are brilliant. These little creatures best enjoy their last moments while they can.”

“They’re still alive?” Therese asked, shock and alarm surging through her.

Carol’s smile faltered. “Not for long?”

“Oh my God.”

“You can’t eat dead oysters; they make you sick.”

“So, we’re about to make them dead? Right now?”

“They don’t feel anything, Therese.”

“How do you know? Has anyone ever asked one?”

Carol looked at her wordlessly.

Therese took a breath, steadied herself as best she could, “Sorry. Just, just show me.”

Carol’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you sure?”

“Show me.”

Carol looked like she didn’t know whether to be concerned or amused. “Alright,” she said finally. “Well, lemon to start, that’s easy enough, right?” Carol picked up one of the lemon wedges circling the platter. “A few drops,” she said, “no more.”

The few drops of lemon juice went onto the oyster closest to Carol.

Then Carol grabbed one of the confusingly tiny forks from the platter. “This,” she held it up, picked up the oyster she’d flavored, “is to loosen the oyster from his—it’s shell.”

Therese noticed the correction. Biting her lip to keep from addressing it, she watched on. Carol manipulated the fork expertly, and there was something alluring in that, in the sure moves of her hands.

“Therese?”

“What?”

“Are you going to,” Carol nodded at Therese’s unused utensils.

“Oh.” It probably would be easier to follow along with Carol, address any corrections as they went along. But that would require Therese to touch the things in front of her. “No, keep going, I like to see someone else do everything first, before I try.”

Carol’s eyebrows lifted. “Really? That’s not been my experience with you.”

Therese flushed. A sex joke. That was a sex joke. Of course Carol would make a sex joke while doing this weird, repulsive thing. Therese drank from her wineglass quickly, wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Continue, please.”

Carol’s smile was quietly wicked. “You’re not usually that polite, either.”

Oh, that was a lie. She was always polite. Almost always. She was just more demanding when it was something she actually wanted. She gave Carol a look, as much of one as she could manage.

Carol laughed and it sounded like two of these clean, fancy glasses dinging together in a happy toast, like the ocean waves first thing in the morning.

“Now,” she said. “You see the cocktail sauce.”

“I do see it, yes.” Therese bit back a smile, eyes darting from the small cup of sauce on the platter, then back to Carol.

“Don’t use the cocktail sauce.”

“Don’t use the cocktail sauce?”

“Do not use the cocktail sauce.”

“I like cocktail sauce,” Therese said, hearing the pout in her own voice. At least she knew what the cocktail sauce was.

“I know you do, and so do I. But not now.”

“Not now?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“They don’t need it. Less is more with oysters. Cocktail sauce just smothers the natural taste. Sometimes natural is best.”

“Uh-huh.” Carol was straight-faced, but Therese knew when she was being toyed with. She was surprised Carol’s foot hadn’t found hers under the table yet. “So, no cocktail sauce. What would you suggest?”

There was that wickedness again, just at the edges. “Mignonette. Just a little,” she said, making use of the other sauce container. “A touch, really.”

“A touch,” Therese repeated, burying her fingers in the napkin draped across her lap.

“Sometimes a touch is all you need, darling. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Are you trying to torture me?”

“I’m trying to have lunch.”

If Carol were just trying to have lunch, she wouldn’t be using that tone. “Sure you are,” Therese said, only gritting her teeth a little. “Now what?”

“Now, the simplest part of all, and the best.” Carol picked up the oyster shell. “You open your mouth, and let it slide in.”

Carol brought the shell to her lips, tipped it forward slightly in a move that shouldn’t have been even remotely graceful. The oyster slid between her lips and she let out a low moan of appreciation.

Therese nearly shredded her cloth napkin. “ _Carol_.”

“Yes, Therese?” she asked, all innocence as she discarded the empty shell.

“What are you doing?”

“Having lunch.”

“We’re going to be arrested.”

“Do you plan to run out before the check comes?”

Therese clamped her mouth shut. Her legs too, crossing them at the ankles. “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t.”

“You’re,” Therese gritted her teeth, leaned in closer. “Eating it like that,” she said in a near whisper. “You know.”

“This is how you eat oysters, Therese.”

“No, that’s how _you_ eat oysters, and it’s going to get us arrested.”

They’d get taken away, with Abby too far off to help this time. Did Abby even know where they were, had Carol called her last night? They’d end up locked in somewhere on the wrong side of the country. And if they went through Therese’s camera, developed the pictures there? Oh God. She’d never see Phil or Dannie again, Carol would never see Rindy, all because Carol wanted to play some bizarre shellfish sex game.

All this being true, part of Therese wanted to see Carol have a second oyster.

Perhaps she really was sick.

“Therese,” Carol said, and it was serious enough to get her attention. “It’s okay. I promise.”

Therese shifted in her chair. She worried, after Tucker. Maybe worried too much, she could accept that, but it didn’t make it any easier to—

_“Therese.”_

Carol shouldn’t be able to be that soft yet that commanding all at once. No one should. Therese looked at her, really looked at her.

“We are safe,” Carol murmured gently, but her eyes held the strength of her words. “You are safe. I promise. I would never, I will never put you in danger again.”

“You didn’t put—”

Carol hushed her, held up a hand. “This place is safe, for us. I promise.”

Therese frowned. She wanted to deal with whatever this nonsense guilt was that Carol was still holding on to, but she couldn’t here, and Carol’s words, the way she said them, had something clicking in her head. “Safe for us,” Therese repeated.

“Abby’s new best girl used to be the owner’s best girl. They gave me a whole map specially marked before we left.”

So. Abby had an entire country’s worth of knowledge about which restaurants were secretly run by queers. Therese wished she could be more surprised by that. She took a breath, then another. “We’re safe,” she repeated.

“We are.” Carol held her gaze, nodded. “We can go, if you like.”

Of course they could. Of course Carol would say that and mean it. Damn this woman. “Finish your lunch, Carol,” Therese said, trying not to smile.

Carol grinned. “What about you, you must be starved.”

She was and she wasn’t, and before Therese could say anything about any of it, Carol had another oyster prepared and at the ready, held out for her. Therese eyed it uncertainly.

“You have to eat, darling,” Carol said, lowering her voice on the next words. “You’ll need your strength for later.”

Therese felt herself flushing deeper, all the way down to her chest. “Are you planning a particularly strenuous route for that walk along the beach?” They’d promised to collect plenty of seashells for Rindy.

“No, no. The strenuous bits will come afterward.”

Skin still burning, Therese couldn’t hold back her smile anymore. Until she stopped focusing on Carol and Carol’s plans and returned her attention to that oyster. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, it’s still alive when you’re eating it? I think that’s the part that’s—”

“Here,” Carol said, interrupting. “Let me help. Will you let me help?”

Therese raised her eyebrows. “Help how?”

Carol reached forward, the oyster shell held in sure fingers. “Open.”

Therese giggled. “You’re joking.”

“How am I joking?”

“You’re not feeding me.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not a child, Carol.”

“No, you certainly aren’t that, are you?”

God. The way Carol was looking at her should be illegal. Was it? Or was it just the acts themselves? This felt like an act. Carol was fucking Therese with her eyes. Therese flushed further with just the thought, but it was true.

“Come on, darling, you need to eat. Can’t have you wasting away to nothing right in front of me, can I?”

If Carol didn’t want her reduced to nothing, then Carol shouldn’t be working this hard to completely dismantle her. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Carol _wasn’t_ working at it. Carol barely had to try, and she knew it.

Therese’s mouth went dry as all the moisture in her body found a home somewhere else. “Carol.” It was supposed to be a warning.

“Hmmm? Are you all right?” Carol asked, far too amused.

“Hush,” Therese muttered.

“Excuse me?” It was almost a laugh.

“I’m not all right, no thanks to you, and you know it, so hush.”

Carol stopped talking. She was going to ruin her lipstick biting her lip that way and wouldn’t that serve her right. For a moment they were quiet, surrounded by the waves and the soft din of other conversations, the clink of silverware and glasses. Therese took that time to realize that there were more women here than men, and that no one seemed to be paying them the slightest bit of attention.

She’d never understand that, how anyone could be in the same room as Carol and not pay her attention. Be in the same room as her and see anyone or anything else.

“May I speak now?” Carol asked.

Therese rolled her eyes. “Are you going to keep holding that up all day?” she asked, eyeing the oyster.

“Not if you open up for me.”

Therese was going to choke on her own tongue. She’d die on the wrong side of the country, in a secretly lesbian restaurant, because she’d choked herself to death with her own tongue. And all of it would be Carol’s fault.

“You’re going to regret this later,” Therese insisted, jaw clenched.

“Oh, I very much doubt it, but I’d love for you to try and make me.”

They couldn’t switch coasts anymore, Therese decided. The hot sun or the sea air, something about this place made Carol entirely too brazen, for either of their goods.

Maybe they could come back next year. Carol wanted to show her all these new places, would Carol let them repeat themselves instead of finding a new route?

“Therese?”

Therese parted her lips slightly. She needed the extra air.

“There you go,” Carol murmured, effectively taking away any relief Therese gave herself. “Ready?”

Therese nodded without planning to, entranced. Carol was giving her that look—one of several Carol had perfected—that rendered Therese completely helpless.

“All right. Stop thinking so much,” Carol said, teasing away any sting the words might have held. “Just stay open,” she said, bringing the oyster forward, “just like that.”

Carol brought the oyster to Therese’s lips, held her gaze as she tipped the shell forward a little.

“Let it slide into your mouth,” Carol said. Her voice was at least two octaves lower than it should be during daylight, with people around.

Therese did as Carol said. She might’ve torn a line straight through her cloth napkin as well.

“And just…taste it,” said Carol, her lips seeming to move in slow motion.

Therese held Carol’s eyes, forgetting her earlier reservations, forgetting the people around them. She was going to get the pleasure of experiencing something new, of watching Carol watch her experience something new.

“Remember to chew,” Carol said, almost an afterthought. “You won’t get all the flavors on your tongue otherwise.”

God forbid her tongue miss out on any of the flavors.

Therese let the oyster find a home in the warmth of her mouth, bit down against its softness to find that wonderful taste Carol so wanted her to savor.

And then she choked.

She had not, as it turned out, torn her cloth napkin in two. Which was fortunate because Therese couldn’t get the oyster out of her mouth fast enough.

“Therese?”

The liquid sex in Carol’s voice had evaporated, turned to alarm. She was half standing, as if preparing to jump across the table and pound Therese’s back.

Therese put a hand up to stop her, still coughing. Carol sat, but pushed the mostly ignored glass of water that came before the wine at her. Therese drank some of it down, then switched back to the wine, desperate to cleanse her palate.

“Therese?” Carol repeated, less frightened now but still worried. “Angel?”

Even now the pet name sent flutters through her stomach. Which wasn’t necessarily a good thing at the moment. Therese didn’t care that Carol had used it in public, didn’t care that some of the other patrons were looking their way. “Did you,” she asked in between coughs and sips of wine, “did you give me a dead one?”

Carol’s frown was deep. “Of course not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Therese?”

Carol handed off her own napkin. Therese took it, wiping her eyes. “Do you mean that it’s supposed to taste that way?”

Carol blinked a few times over. “I take it you don’t care for them then.”

“Don’t care?” That wasn’t the phrase. “How can you…how could anyone?”

“All right, clearly I made a mistake.”

“It’s so slimy and, and _icky_.” Therese shuddered on the last word. It was one of Rindy’s favorites, the only thing that seemed to fit here.

“Icky,” Carol repeated.

Carol wasn’t worried anymore. Carol was laughing at her. Not literally, she hadn’t gone that far, but her eyes were dancing the way they did when she laughed, and the edges of her mouth were turned up. “What did I do?”

“Sorry?”

“You really were trying to torture me. What did I ever do to you?”

Carol did laugh at that. “Would you like something else to eat, Therese?”

“Yes, yes I would,” Therese replied, pointedly ignoring Carol’s tone.

Ten minutes later, Therese had a shrimp cocktail in front of her while Carol was left with the giant platter of oysters that was most definitely not made for one person.

“How can you possibly?” Therese asked, shaking her head in disbelief as Carol used a tiny fork on another oyster.

Carol paused. “If you’re that repulsed, I can be done, have this taken away.”

“Don’t be absurd. Eat. Eat,” Therese repeated when Carol remained still.

Carol gave her a look, then resumed her oyster preparation.

Grinning, Therese made use of the cocktail sauce Carol had forbidden from, adding a generous amount before popping one of the shrimps into her mouth. The oysters were truly and utterly disgusting, and Therese would never understand how Carol could stomach them.

But she would never, ever turn down the chance to watch Carol eat them.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr. Come yell at me about vintage lesbians. If you leave me a prompt that hits my brain right, I'll write something and there will be more words about vintage lesbians in the word.
> 
> https://cblgblog.tumblr.com/


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